


Olivia

by thatsthefrailtyofgenius



Series: Girls like girls [2]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7982728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsthefrailtyofgenius/pseuds/thatsthefrailtyofgenius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here's part two!!! </p><p>There's no way there's going to be regular updates, and I'm not even sure this series will even run consecutively to each other. I'd love to write it as a multi-chapter, but I already have a big WIP at the moment, so its just going to be little ficlets like this.</p><p>This was lots of fun to write! All the teachers are based off of the teachers I had at Stoke Damerel in Plymouth, with a few things changed up or elaborated here and there.  </p><p>Let me know what you think, feel free to ask me any questions on tumblr at snakesandcocacola, and as always, thank you.</p><p>Dee xx</p>
    </blockquote>





	Olivia

**Author's Note:**

> Here's part two!!! 
> 
> There's no way there's going to be regular updates, and I'm not even sure this series will even run consecutively to each other. I'd love to write it as a multi-chapter, but I already have a big WIP at the moment, so its just going to be little ficlets like this.
> 
> This was lots of fun to write! All the teachers are based off of the teachers I had at Stoke Damerel in Plymouth, with a few things changed up or elaborated here and there. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, feel free to ask me any questions on tumblr at snakesandcocacola, and as always, thank you.
> 
> Dee xx

Liv flicks her legs up on the table and clasps her hands behind her head, watching the rest of the class rattling on at each other. At the front, Mr Liles, or Gorilla, as everyone likes to call him, pushes his nerdy glasses back up the bridge of his nose and types awkwardly, his eyes bright with passion.

How anyone can be passionate about _maths_ is a total fuckin mystery to her, but whatever, to each their own. And the hairy bastard lets her get away with doing the bare minimum too, so she’s not complaining much.

Beside her, Gabby taps her pen against the roof of her mouth and bites the inside of her lip. She’d started the questions (Liv has already finished them all), with good intentions, but her thinking face has morphed into her daydream face, and as always, she’s totally in a world of her own.

Liv squirms as she realises that she’s been staring at her best friend a little longer than necessary, and shakes it off, bringing her hands back down to tuck in the pockets of her blazer, embroidered with the long rectangle of blue framing the school’s coat of arms.

She considers skipping out for a moment, asking to go to the toilet and just not coming back; but Liles isn’t stupid, he’ll smell a rat right away, and she’s planning to wait until at least half way through the year before she starts truanting on the regular again.

“This is quite possibly the most boring thing I’ve ever sat through,” Gabby sighs a moment later, and Liv raises her eyebrows, shrugging.

“It’s not that bad; at least it’s not Alley; he’d already have me strung up by my feet if we were on his turf”

“He looks like a mole,” Gabby snorts, finally accepting failure and dropping her pen sitting up straighter to take her hair out of its ponytail and plait it down instead.

“An evil mole,” Liv agrees “with beady eyes and a stick up his ass”

“Language please, Olivia”

“English, Sir,” she replies, raising her voice slightly over the noise. Liles doesn’t even take his eyes off his screen, but a small smile twitches on his mouth.

The rest of the class work for another twenty minutes before the bell goes, and Liv stands. Gabby moves with her, tugging her bag over her shoulder and checking her make-up and hair in the tiny mirror she carries around with her.

“You look fine, stop fussing”

“I’m having a bad eyebrow day,” Gabby whines as they near the door, following the flood of other students out.

“Don’t forget the homework for Monday, Olivia,” Liles calls and she flips him off as she walks out, smirking to herself, already taking the cigs out of her pocket. Gabby sighs and eyes them with disapproval and Liv rolls her eyes.

“I need a wee first,” Gabby says, pointedly looking away and sticking her chin in the air. She doesn’t even need to ask Liv to go with her, she already knows she will.

“I swear half our day gets taken up by you needing a piss”

“Language, Olivia,” Gabby retorts in an over exaggerated Liles impression. Liv laughs as Gabby shoves her arm through her’s, linking them together.

“English, Sir,” she replies haughtily, making Gabby laugh too. Liv forces herself not to get caught up in the musical sound, the way Gabby’s eyes crinkle at the corners and light up, the curve of her mouth.

She holds Gabby’s bags as she disappears into the cubicle, watching across the narrow corridor as Mr Katkinson readies his dishevelled papers for his next lesson and munches on a donut as he goes, his red face set in a mildly irritated frown. Gabby comes out and takes her bag back, touching up her lip-gloss in the vandalised mirror on the breast wall between the girl’s and the boy’s toilets.

They move back toward the double doors to the right branching off to the left of the long corridor, leading across the ‘street’ to the canteen. Liv moves the other way however, heading for the courtyard, pausing when Gabby makes no move to follow.

“I told you last week, I’m not endorsing your lung rotting habit”

“Good, because I’m not endorsing your bad attitude”

“Bit rich, coming from you,” Gabby snorts, raising her eyebrows. Liv just scowls.

“I’ll see you after break in English”

“Don’t be late, you know Mrs Troothman doesn’t like it”

“What’s she going to do, tell her wife on me?”

“Probably, you know her wife is scary as hell when she’s in a mood”

“They’re the perfect match then, aren’t they?”

“Like me and you,” Gabby grins, rolling her eyes and nudging Liv away with the wordless promise that their banter is only ever half serious, and that they’ll reconvene in fifteen minutes.

Liv makes her way out to the courtyard. To the top right hand corner, there’s the tech block; wood tech and textiles downstairs, food tech upstairs. Beside it is the new block of posh computer rooms no one ever really uses. On the bottom right, is the science block, joined to the upstairs mathblock on the other side, with an elevated hallway arched with a stained glass window commemorating some kid that died on school grounds about twenty years ago.

Liv passes under it, glancing left to the bottom floor English block, where she’ll be heading after her break. The walkway opens up onto the large grass sports field, less busy now it’s raining, but apparently full of students in the summer; Liv hasn’t been here long enough to confirm, but she knows it’s probably true.

To the right, down a long cement path that dips down, is a slightly smaller fenced concrete playground, designed for tennis mostly, and used more frequently for fire drills.

Liv goes left off to the smoking shelters just behind the first aid building, and sits down in the old, rusting hut. The ceiling had been removed for safety reasons, but never replaced, so it does little to actually shelter her as she lights up, but she doesn’t mind too much. The wind and spray of rain is cool against her face, and lets her calm down for a few minutes before the teachers come out for their fag breaks.

She doesn’t actually need to worry about being late for Troothman’s English class, because she joins her a moment later, dressed all in black with her long dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She doesn’t tell her to put the cigarette out or lecture her about being two years underage; most of them know, even after only a few weeks of her being here, that their punishments will fall on deaf ears.

“Liv,” Troothman acknowledges as she lights her roll up “delightfully angry looking as usual”

“I’d return the compliment, but you wouldn’t give a shit”

“Touché,” Troothman replies, not cracking a smile. Her lips do twitch slightly though, and her eyes convey reluctant amusement.

Then Beswell, a short, toned, blonde man joins them from the science block, bearded as usual, and dressed in his bespoke slacks and a waistcoat over a fitted light purple shirt. He’s followed by the school councillor, Kate, a friendly faced brunette woman that makes Liv incredibly uncomfortable; she always feels as though she can read her every expression, even when its emotionless.

They both spark, and Beswell tucks one hand in his trouser pocket, smiling at her.

“How’s that brother of yours?”

“He’s just put our dad in prison, Beswell, how do you think he’s doing?”

“Wow,” Troothman raises her eyebrows, finally smirking, glancing sideways at Beswell “you’re right, she is a mini Aaron. He’s got his work cut out for him”

“I’m right here, you know?”

“Yes,” Troothman remarks “decidedly not reading Of Mice and Men for my class in,” she pauses to check her watch “four minutes”

“There’s a big guy, a small guy, a creepy guy, a black guy, and a hot girl in a red dress. Bad shit happens, there”

“You did read the book; I’m impressed. Probably don’t put that in your essay though, I’ll have to fail you, and you know how much I hate failing a room full of juvenile delinquents”

Troothman’s voice is full of sarcasm and Liv rolls her eyes, taking a few final tokes on her cig before stubbing it out and standing with her hands in the pockets of her blazer.

“I’ll be going to your lesson now; I’ll be sure to tell your juvenile delinquents that their teacher is late because she’s filling her lungs with harmful chemicals that will kill her in a few years”

“Sure,” Troothman snorts “if the multiple sclerosis doesn't take me first. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Try not to set anything on fire”

* * *

 

The majority of the following few weeks play out that way. Liv gets detention for lighting a cig on a Bunsen burner in science, and is put in isolation for three days after she punches a year eleven guy for slapping Gabby’s ass in the humanities block.

Aaron jokes that the Principal’s office is becoming his home away from home, but there’s always a touch of tiredness to his tone that makes her wince in sympathy. She knows she’s hard work, but this is all so new to her; behaving isn’t something she’s very good at.

The Principal herself, Mrs Stannaford, is a short, grey woman, with piercing blue eyes and graceful good looks. She dresses like the Queen, with her matching colours and neckerchiefs. Liv is still trying to decide whether she likes her, or whether she wants to put a cherry bomb through her letterbox.

Robert knows something is wrong. Aaron takes just a few more seconds to catch on, so she knows it won’t be long before he gets that look on his face like he’s trying desperately to figure something out, but doesn’t know what it is. But Robert always knows almost immediately, and it drives her fucking crazy.

He keeps raising one eyebrow at her, or smirking at her, like he’s enjoying being clued in on something that other people aren’t. Liv isn’t even sure herself yet, so the fact that Robert seems to be confident in his assumptions, makes her want to punch that smug little grin off his Disney Prince face.

She’s also pretty sure Gabby already knows too; or at least sensing that something is out of sorts. She’s one of the most astute girls Liv has ever met; it makes her both intriguing and dangerous, and Liv is quite enough of a danger on her own thank you very much.

The first big thing happens a few weeks later however. Liv is so tired at that point, that she’s falling asleep in classes, no amount of coffee quelling the heaviness of her eyes that has started to drag her under before lunch time now.

“Olivia”

She jerks violently, her insides cringing and shivering at being pulled from unconsciousness so suddenly, and without thinking, she lashes out, brandishing her pen under the chin of the teacher who’d been stupid enough to use her full name to wake her up. It triggers something deep in her head, something she doesn’t quite remember, but knows screams pain and fear.

“Hey,” Gabby’s voice is confused and thick with concern and Liv flinches when a smaller, softer hand is placed on her forearm “pipe down; we’re in lesson”

Liv’s heart is pounding against the inside of her chest, but she slowly relaxes, letting out a long sigh.

“What time is it?”

“Time you leave my classroom,” their teacher, Mrs Bentham, moving backward away from the pen and standing with her arms crossed over her large bosom, eyebrows raised, expression furious. Liv is sure, if it were possible, that there should be steam coming out of her ears.

She’s still shaking as she grits her teeth and bites her tongue, tucking her pen away in her blazer pocket and collecting her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She closes the door behind her quietly and sits on the floor opposite, spine against the wall of the corridor, tipping her head back and letting the breeze of the air conditioning cool her heated face.

“Fuck,” she breathes, blinking herself further awake. She’s going to be in so much shit for this. She basically just threatened to stab a teacher.

When she’s got her panic under control, her shaking hands feel around in her blazer pocket for her phone. She contemplates calling Aaron for a few moments, before she decides against it, and scrolls down to the bottom where she swallows, hesitating only briefly before selecting the contact and pressing the call button.

“Trouble,” Roberts one-word acknowledgment answers, uniform and solid. It grounds her, makes her feel more normal. And she swallows, clearing her throat slightly.

“Dickbreath,” she replies in greeting.

“What’s up?”

“I uh… I think I did something bad”

“Okay?” he says, waiting for her to elaborate. The concern in his voice is closely guarded, but she hears it anyway.

“The teacher tried to – I was sleeping in class and – fuck, I just – I wasn’t – I didn’t know she would-”

“Hey,” he interrupts her babbling, cutting through the panic stating up again “take a breath,” he tells her “and try again”

She draws in a deep, shaky breath, and nods to herself.

“I fell asleep in class and the teacher tried to wake me up”

“And?”

“And she used my full name”

There’s a small pause.

“Oh,” he says, recognition seeping into his voice “shit”

“Yup”

“What did you do?”

“I freaked out and held a pen to her throat”

“Fuck. Okay, where are you now?”

“She sent me out of the room. I’m just sat here waiting”

“That’s – okay, we both know that’s a bad idea considering you’re still pumped full of adrenaline. Can you move?”

“Can I fucking move? Of course I can you twat”

“Okay, damn; fine. Get up,” he says “and go to reception. I’ll call them and tell them I’m picking you up. I’m down in your file as secondary guardian, right?”

“Yeah,” she sighs heavily, dropping her head and pinching her nose between her forefinger and thumb “Aaron sorted it last week. Just show them your ID”

“We still have the note from your councillor; I’ll bring it with me. And Liv?” he says, waiting for her to make a noise to indicate she’s listening “you’re fine. Have a cig, go toilet, and I’ll be there in twenty minutes”

* * *

 

Robert takes her into town.

He buys her a milkshake and a burger, and lets her sit in silence for over two hours whilst he stays with her, occasionally taking business calls but not once leaving her side. After that, they share a cigarette and go for a long walk through the park.

When it starts to get dark, he turns her around. If she cries a few times, if he wipes her eyes with the cloth he keeps in his blazer, if he throws an arm around her whilst they make their way back to the car, and if she huddles in close to him against the cold, he doesn’t call her on it or tease her.

For the first time in weeks, she feels like herself again.

When they get back, Aaron gives them both shit for leaving school and for not calling, but he’s not actually that angry, especially not when Robert explains the situation for her and overrides Aaron’s protests at her sulking off to bed.

She knows she’s going to have to confront her own shit sooner or later; think about why her eyes linger on Gabby longer than they should, and about all the other things surrounding that. But right now, she’s safe, and exhausted, and she spent the day with Robert Sugden and enjoyed it.

So she changes into trackies and a baggy t-shirt, curls up in bed, and falls into her dreams the second her head touches the pillow.


End file.
